


Cold Little Heart

by kaymccall



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Big Little Lies au, F/F, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Soccer Mom Antics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaymccall/pseuds/kaymccall
Summary: Maybe it starts when Isobel Evans hits Maria DeLuca's car outside the school, or maybe it starts when Rosa Ortecho moves back to town, or maybe it really starts long before that, years even. But it ends with blood on the pavement outside the museum and a dead body at the foot of the stairs.(The Big Little Lies AU absolutely no one asked for)





	1. Somebody's Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I can't even tell you how excited I am for this story! I've been wanting to write something with all the Roswell ladies together for a while. All of them are so important to me and close to my heart, and their journeys and struggles and victories have been cathartic to explore. With the return of Big Little Lies, I got this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone!
> 
> First, I want to be transparent about something: If you're unfamiliar with BLL, it deals heavily with themes of abuse and sexual assault, including rape. This fic will touch on those topics as well, so proceed with caution. I will put trigger warnings on the specific chapters that deal with those topics so that you can skip over them if you'd like. None of these sensitive topics are meant to be eroticized or romanticized in any way. In the case of sexual assault, I can assure you that it will only be talked about by the characters, not graphically portrayed. Please keep your own mental health in mind, read the trigger warnings before each chapter, and don't read anything that will make you uncomfortable or upset.
> 
> That being said, there are no major trigger warnings in this chapter, so enjoy!
> 
> One final thing: I used to work as a counselor at a private school, and I drew heavily from my experiences there while writing this fic. Some of the more ridiculous childrens' names featured in this story are 100% real names that I've seen rich, white moms name their children. Art imitates life.

_Michael pushes through the crowd of frantic, chattering moms and  dads dressed in everything ranging from appropriate evening wear to ridiculous, gaudy costumes. He’d already been on his way, imagining every worst-case scenario, when Max called him, voice urgent, but with very little information. All Michael knows is that_ something _happened at the fundraiser, and now the museum is roped off by caution tape, and there are cops everywhere._

 _What_ _exactly_ _happened seems to be the question rippling through the crowd. To his right, Michael hears Courtney Banks, who, judging by her attire, had been in attendance at the fundraiser, tell her husband “Somebody’s dead.”_

4 Months Prior 

“Mattheo! _Oy! Que haces?_ Put your shoes back on!” Liz snaps, catching one of the twins’ eyes in the rearview mirror. Mattheo groans dramatically and reluctantly pulls his sneakers back on, rolling his eyes.

“I saw that,” Max says. “Don’t disrespect your mother.” He turns around to face both the boys. “C’mon, buds, first day of school! We’re almost there!”

“If we can ever get through this traffic,” Liz quips. “Do any of these moms even know how to drive their giant, gas-guzzling SUVs? Is there a different driver’s test for suburban white women that I don’t know about?”

“It’s not that bad,” Max reassures.

“Easy for you to say from the passenger’s seat.”

Max nods in surrender.

Liz sighs. “I’m gonna be late for work. What’s the point of missing their first day if I’m not gonna be on time anyway? I should just call in. Dr. Avila would understand.”

“You really think that?”

“No,” Liz admits. “It’s just- I feel so bad. You better take lots of pictures, Max. I’m serious, I want enough to wallpaper the diner.”

“You know I will,” Max says. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll be there. And it's not like you need to meet the teacher.”

“I know, but you know the other moms will talk. _Chismosas_. They’re ruthless, you know, like, ‘She couldn’t even show up for her kids’ first day of school, what kind of mother is she?’”

“The kind who works very hard to support her family at her very important job where she’s off making the world a better place.”

Liz gives Max a fond smile, but it’s not enough to deter her rant; she, in all her charmingly unnecessary defensiveness, continues: “And it’s a total double standard too, because, you know, half the dads won’t show up, and no one will even notice, let alone care. I mean, you said Noah had a work thing too, right? But do you think anyone will be talking about how he’s not there? No, of course not, he’s a man, so his career comes first. You know, I _do_ put my family first. You _know_ I do—”

“I know you do.”

“I am not going to apologize just because my work is also important to me. I do what I do _because_ I want a better future for this world, for _my_ kids, for their kids too! Hell, they should be _thanking_ me— _Miguel, if you don’t stop kicking my seat!_ ”

When Liz turns back to Max, he’s looking at her with nothing but pure warmth and love. It's the way he always looks at her, and Liz wonders how she got so lucky as to land a man who’s as good a partner as he is a father. “You’re amazing,” he says. “I know that. The boys know that. And if anyone tries to say otherwise, I’ll have Isobel destroy them socially. Promise.”

Liz opens her mouth to reply, but before she can, there’s the sound of metal crashing into metal and someone laying on their horn up ahead.

Liz looks up sharply. “ _Idiotas_ . Of _course_ , as if we didn’t have enough to deal with today. Which one of these brainless bottle-blondes do you think caused this?”

A tall blonde steps out of the car a few cars ahead of them, clad in oversized sunglasses and screaming curse words, and Max lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I think I can guess who.” He opens the passenger side door and turns around to the twins. “C’mon boys, get your stuff ready, we’re gonna walk from here.” He kisses Liz on  the cheek before getting out. “Go save the world, babe.”

—

“First day traffic,” Isobel huffs to no one in particular. God knows, her kids aren’t listening, too engrossed in their electronic devices in the backseat.  “Same goddamn shit every year.”

The car in front of her is a bright red two-door Chevrolet pick-up. Isobel doesn’t know anything about makes or models, but she can tell it’s old. The vintage kind of old, though, not the cheap kind of old. Well-taken care of. Flashy. But certainly not practical for a mom with an elementary school-age child. “That’s the problem, it’s these parents who send their kids on the bus every other day of the year, they all of a sudden wanna show up on the first day.” She glares pointedly at the seemingly-endless parade of cars in front of her. She’s not necessarily talking to the Chevrolet. Currently, she’s angry with any and every car in front of her. They’re all preventing her from accomplishing what _should be_ the quick and easy task of dropping her kids off. She can’t even imagine what the drive-thru line at Starbucks will be like. She’ll probably have to _park_ and go inside to order. “Of course, none of them know how to drive. God, this is giving me a headache.”

“Who are you talking to, woman?” Fairley asks from the backseat. Fairley has recently gotten into the habit of addressing her mother as “woman,” perhaps solely because she can tell it pisses her off. Isobel tried to nip it in the bud, but Noah thinks it’s funny, and that’s enough incentive for Fairley to keep it up.

Isobel glances behind her, trying very hard to not show any reaction that would egg Fairley on. “I’m talking to myself. And don’t call me ‘woman’.”

Fairley giggles. The light up ahead turns green and Isobel honks her horn. The blue-gray crossover SUV up ahead won’t move— the woman is probably on her phone, she figures— so the Chevrolet can’t move, so in turn Isobel remains stuck in place. The woman in the passenger seat of the Chevrolet sticks her head out the window and shouts something indistinct at the crossover, which finally moves, but not quick enough. They miss the light.

“Goddammit!” Isobel hisses, slamming her hands against the wheel in frustration. She may as well settle in. It’s not like she has anywhere better to be. Still, Isobel hates waiting for things.

“Goddammit!” Fairley parrots from the backseat with a gleeful look on her face. That’s another thing she’s picked up recently. Repeating swear words, but only when Isobel says them first. If Isobel says them first, she has less room to argue, and Fairley gets in less trouble. At age eight, Fairley is already an expert at haggling when it comes to punishment. She can negotiate two weeks no TV into a thirty-minute timeout if she is dedicated enough to the cause. She’s going to be a nightmare of a teenager.

Isobel turns around, putting on her scariest “stern mom” face. “Fairley Ann Bracken! Do _not_ repeat that!” Fairley purses her lips together, but she can’t hide the smug look on her face. Isobel is going to have to talk to Noah about setting up a swear jar. As she turns back around, the Chevrolet inches forward, and Isobel does so too, right on top of it. Then, it slams to a dead stop, and Isobel stomps on her brakes, but not in time. Her car collides with the rear of the Chevrolet, and Isobel screams, “FUCK!”

—

“Don’t be nervous,” Maria says, resting a hand on Rosa’s knee, which is practically vibrating in the passenger’s seat. “Elena’s in great hands.”

Rosa laughs, and it comes out half-hysterical. “I’m not worried about Elena. I’m worried about _me_. What am I gonna do all day without her?” She glances to the backseat, where her daughter is too engrossed in her Pokemon coloring book to even notice their conversation.

“You’ll find something. It’s kind of like the first day of school all over again for the parents. You’ll make friends.” Maria is a godsend, comforting and rational on the surface, but Rosa is sure that underneath that, she’s experiencing all the same first day jitters she is, probably to an even higher degree. Maria always has to be the strong one. Rosa wishes she could take that burden off Maria’s shoulders from time to time, but she fears she doesn’t have the same strength.

“Uch.” Rosa makes a distasteful noise. “I can’t even imagine myself convening with all those uppity PTA soccer moms.  Going to like, _brunch_ and stuff.” She says “brunch” like it’s a dirty word.

Maria laughs. “They’re not all the same breed. _Liz_ is one of those moms, remember?”

Rosa plays with a black thread hanging from a rip in her jeans, then pulls it off. “I guess,” she says, not really listening.

Maria gives her a lighthearted, amused look. “Oh my god, look at you! You’re like a brooding fourteen-year-old on her first day of high school.”

“Shut up,” Rosa smirks, shoving the hand still resting on her knee. “Thanks for giving us a ride, by the way. I didn’t wanna bother Liz. She’s already so stressed with her job and the twins and that whole ‘modern 21st century mom who can have it all’ thing.”

“She says you’ve helped out a lot this summer. I think she really missed having you around.” Maria glances at Rosa fondly. “I have, too.” She’s never asked Rosa why she stayed away for so long. There’s a lot Maria has never questioned Rosa about. She doesn’t need to know until Rosa is ready to tell her; that’s the way it’s always been with her.

The car behind them honks, and Maria looks up sharply. The light is green, but the car in front of them won’t move, and when Maria looks closer, she sees the woman driving it is on her cell phone. “Mellie, promise me, when you get older, you won’t _ever_ text and drive,” Maria says to her daughter in the backseat.

Melody removes an earbud and says, “Huh?” Maria rolls her eyes.

Rosa rolls down her window and pokes her head out. “Get off your phone, idiot!”

The car finally moves, and it makes the light, but they don’t. Maria settles back into her seat. It’s always like this on the first day. Who knows how long they could be here?

The light turns green again, and Maria starts to go, only to gasp and slam on her brakes as two kids run out in front of her. The white SUV rear-ends her, and the asshole has the audacity to lay on her horn as if it’s _Maria’s_ fault, but Maria is still recovering from the shock of those kids running out into the road. The crossing guard is berating the two boys, and Maria gets out of the car to make sure everyone’s okay. Rosa follows her, but not before giving Elena a quick lecture on looking both ways before crossing the street. The kids have already run along before Maria can approach them, so they obviously aren’t as perturbed by the incident as she is.

Unfortunately, there is _someone_ who’s more upset about the whole situation than Maria. A tall, willowy blonde woman with her hair in a tight ponytail and wearing large sunglasses steps out of the car that had just hit Maria’s. “What the everloving _fuck_ was that?” She demands. “You can’t just pump your brakes in the middle of an intersection, dipshit!”

Maria whirls around to face none other than Isobel Evans-Bracken, whose face blanches at the sight of Maria. Maria and Isobel Evans have been at odds since grade school. It gave Maria quite a start when she saw Isobel’s youngest child’s ridiculous name on her class roster for this year. “I don’t know where you get off on your self-righteousness,” Maria starts before she can help herself,  “but _you_ were the one who hit _me_.”

Isobel Evans-Bracken is an odd brand of menacingly charming, with her long blonde hair and strained smile and endless social capital. She’s the kind of woman you long to have as  a friend, but never want to cross. Maria has crossed Isobel numerous times, from elementary school to high school to now, but the difference now is that Maria is the one who holds the power. Maria is the one whose car Isobel has rear-ended, and Maria is the one who’ll be teaching her son this coming year. Not that she’d ever hold a grudge against a child based on who their parents are. Maria’s a better teacher than that; a better person than that. But it doesn’t stop Isobel from squirming under her gaze, and Maria has to admit, that’s something she enjoys. “Obviously, I’ll pay for the damages,” Isobel relents. “Now, what exactly possessed you to slam on your brakes out of nowhere?”

“It’s a school zone,” Maria explains simply, as if she’s talking to one of the five year olds she teaches. “A kid ran out into the street. Maybe if you hadn’t been tailgating me—”

“There a problem here, ladies?” asks another blonde, stepping out of her car and flashing her police badge.

“No problem at all,” Isobel says hurriedly.

“Mrs. Evans-Bracken was just offering to pay for the damages to my baby,” Maria says, stroking a hand over the hood of her car. “Jenna Cameron, right?” she asks with a tone of recognition. “I’m pretty sure your kid is in my class this year.”

“Ms. DeLuca!” Jenna exclaims in a suddenly much friendlier tone. “Yeah, Camila is looking forward to meeting you.”

“Camila Cameron?” Rosa asks, amused. _Cam Cameron_. It’s precious, in a cheesy white lady type of way.

“Camila Valenti, actually,” Jenna corrects. “I’m divorced.”

“Valenti? Oh, then you’re Kyle’s—” _ex-wife? Baby mama?_ She’s not sure which is the more correct or polite term.

“How do you know Kyle?” Jenna asks.

“I’m his sister, actually.”

Jenna cocks her head to the side. “Kyle doesn’t have a sister,” she says, though there’s an unsureness to the statement, almost as if it had been a question. Of course she’d know if Kyle had a sister. Maybe they’d only been married for a less-than-blissful ten and a half months, but a sister is something she should _know_ about, isn’t it?

“Half-sister, I guess,” Rosa corrects, sensing Jenna’s sudden insecurity. “We haven’t been close. We didn’t grow up together or anything.” That’s halfway a lie, but only halfway. They _had_ grown up together, same neighborhood, same group of friends, but it wasn’t like they knew they were siblings back then. Still, telling a half-lie seems better than pissing off a cop first thing in the morning, and Rosa’s not exactly in the mood to recount the whole torrid story of her mom’s and Kyle’s dad’s infidelity.

Isobel suddenly looks at them with a curious expression, and Rosa can see the wheels turning in her head. “Kyle Valenti’s sister, then— Oh my God! I didn’t recognize you at first, but you’re—”

A car honks its horn.

“CAN THE LADIES _PLEASE_ GET A MOMENT?” Isobel screeches at the procession of cars behind them.

“Well,” Maria says, having already exchanged insurance information with Isobel while Jenna and Rosa were talking, “Should we maybe get going now? I assume we’re all headed to the same place.”

Isobel takes a deep breath to compose herself. Maria’s right. She should get back in her car  before she murders someone.

-

_Max hadn’t thought anything of it when Liz disappeared earlier in the night, making a passing comment about “girl stuff” and finding Maria. He hadn’t attached any importance to it at all until a bloodcurdling scream that was unmistakably Isobel’s rang out, loud enough to be heard from inside the building._

_He finally sees Valenti and runs up to her. “Sheriff!”_

_She turns around. “Evans. Nice outfit.”_

_“What’s going on?”_

_Valenti shakes her head. “You know I can’t tell you anything, Evans. You’re retired, remember?”_

_Behind her, Max hears the phrase_ possible homicide _from one of the responding officers, and his panic only increases. “Sheriff, my wife is in there. Isobel too. Now, what’s going on?”_

_Valenti takes a good, long look at him, and sighs. She’s always had a soft spot for Max Evans. “I’m about to turn my back. But, on the record, don’t run in there to do your macho hero thing. You don’t work for me anymore. I can’t give you orders. But I’m telling you, don’t.”_

_“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sheriff,” Max says, then, as soon as her eyes are off him, he slips past the caution tape and runs into the building._


	2. The Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Isobel is easy to spot in her hot pink dress. When he finds her in the crowd, Michael starts to call out for her, but stops. She’s holding a brunette dressed like Audrey Hepburn— she’s turned away so he can’t see her face— in her arms, and they’re both crying._
> 
>  
> 
> _“I’m sorry,” Isobel chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include bullying between children.

_ Isobel is easy to spot in her hot pink dress. When he finds her in the crowd, Michael starts to call out for her, but stops. She’s holding a brunette dressed like Audrey Hepburn— she’s turned away so he can’t see her face— in her arms, and they’re both crying. _

_ “I’m sorry,” Isobel chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry _ .”

—

Once they’re through the doors of the school, Fairley immediately trounces up to Melody DeLuca. “Hi! Are you in Mrs. Whitman’s class? My mom hit your mom with her car this morning!” Isobel could die of embarrassment. One day, when Fairley’s a teenager, Isobel is going to get her back for this. She’s going to make it her mission to embarrass that kid as much as she possibly can, to make up for all the grief Fairley’s giving her now.

Max is wrangling the twins, holding one of each of their little hands as they restlessly fidget and tug at him while he’s talking to Maria.

“I’m so excited to have you  in my class this year,” Maria says, crouching down to the kids’ level. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

“Do you have Legos?” Miguel asks, peering curiously behind her into the classroom.

“We sure do!” Maria briefly turns back to find her own kid. “Mellie!” she says when she spots her. “Do you know how to find your classroom?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Melody shouts down the hall without even a glance behind her, already being dragged along hand-in-hand with Fairley Bracken. 

“Don’t run in the halls!”

Elena is clinging nervously to Rosa’s leg, looking around the room, when Cameron, the cop from earlier, approaches them. “Hey,” she says, “Jenna Cameron, from the—”

“Yeah, I remember,” Rosa answers, cutting her off.  _ It was like, twenty minutes ago. Jeez.  _ Rosa can’t help her coldness. She doesn't trust cops.

“That’s my Camila, over there,” Cameron says, pointing to a little girl over on the carpet by the dollhouse. “So, if you’re Kyle’s half-sister, I guess that makes them… cousins? Half-cousins?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.” Rosa leans down, gently prying Elena off her leg. “Baby, why don’t you go and play?” Rosa urges her, and Elena glances cautiously at the dollhouse, before giving Rosa’s leg one last hug and scurrying off.

Before Jenna and Rosa can carry their stilted conversation any further, Isobel approaches them both. “Sorry. You’re Rosa, Liz’s sister, right?” Rosa nods. “I feel like we got off  on the wrong foot earlier. If you don’t have any plans after this, can I take you to brunch?” Isobel quickly turns to Jenna. “You’re invited too, of course.”

Cameron and Rosa exchange a look. Who are they to turn down an invitation to brunch?

-

_ “We’re talking to everyone who was in attendance that night. We’re just trying to get a clear idea of what happened here.” _

_ “I’ll tell you when it all started. It was that incident with the kindergarten moms on the first day of school.” _

-

They settle down at a table at some quaint little coffee place called Bean Me Up.

“So, you’re new to Roswell?” Jenna asks while Isobel is ordering their coffee.

“Old, actually. I’m from here originally.”

“I thought you said you and Kyle didn’t grow up together?”

Rosa tenses her shoulders, caught in her miniscule lie.  “Well, not as brother and sister anyway. We were neighbors, though. His dad kinda—”

“The croissants here are to die for,” Isobel says, rescuing Rosa as she sits down in the  seat beside her, three lattes and three croissants in hand. “I mean, the coffee's good, too. The barista, Connor, does these adorable latte doodles—”

“I know, I’m a regular  here,” Jenna says, cutting Isobel off abruptly.

Isobel pays the interruption no mind “—but the  chocolate croissants are the main attraction.” She pushes one toward Rosa, who takes a cautious  bite.

“Mmm,” Rosa moans, “This _ is  _ good.”

“Told you.”

“So, are you a single mom?” Jenna asks Rosa. Rosa nods, still chewing. “I mean, who isn’t nowadays?” she says in a tentatively joking tone.

“Well, I’m not,” Isobel says, awkwardly and unnecessarily. She doesn’t say it like it somehow makes her better than them— which is odd, because Isobel Evans-Bracken thinks she’s better than  _ everyone _ . Rather, she says it like she feels left out. Jealous, even.

“So, how did you and Kyle meet?” Rosa asks hesitantly. “I didn’t know he was ever married.” Maybe that’s the wrong thing to say. Maybe she shouldn't be asking her half-brother’s ex-wife about their past relationship, while peppering in a bonus, “you were never relevant enough for him to mention you,” to boot.

Isobel leans forward, curiously. She hasn’t heard this story either. Max had quit the force as soon  as they found out Liz was pregnant, before the whole Cameron and Kyle tryst. She never got to hear the juicy details.

“It’s not much of a story. His mom is my boss. And his dad was before that. Before he died.” Jim had always liked her. Michelle didn’t. Doesn’t. “We hooked up a couple of times, I got pregnant, and we did the old-fashioned thing. We broke up a few months after Camila was born.” Jenna twiddles her thumbs and looks down at her lap. “It was around the same time Jim died. He passed away when she was just two weeks old. It was important to Kyle. The whole marriage thing.”

“It was good of you to do that for him,” Rosa says quietly.

Cam shrugs it off. “It was just the way things worked out.”

Rosa, in an effort to take the obviously unwanted attention off Jenna, turns to Isobel. “So, what’s the school like?”

Isobel perks up. “Oh it’s great! By far the best elementary school in the area, as far as public schools go. Although, just between us girls, I sent Fairley to the private school down the road for her first two years of school— not worth the tuition at all. We like this one much better. I’m running for the PTA this year,” Isobel announces proudly.

Rosa laughs a little. “You seem like you’d be perfect for that.

If that statement is meant to be backhanded, Isobel chooses not to take it as such. “Why, thank you.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “What am I missing? Oh! Trivia night!” She sets down her cup of coffee and leans in as if she’s about to share an exciting secret. “So every year, at the end of fall semester, the school hosts this big fundraiser for the parents. There’s a trivia contest where you can win all these dinky little prizes. Personally, I’m total crap at trivia. That’s more of Noah’s area. That’s my husband, Noah Bracken. It doesn’t matter; the trivia isn’t the fun part. There’s a talent show, and copious amounts of alcohol, and everyone is encouraged to dress up like famous celebrities. My Audrey Hepburn killed last year. I always look the best out of everyone, so I win in all the ways that matter.”

“Ugh.” Jenna rolls her eyes. “I’m not really big on trivia or costume parties.”

“Well, what about ‘copious amounts of alcohol?’” Rosa asks with a bemused smirk.

“Now  _ that’s _ more up my alley.”

Isobel looks at Rosa in a way that manages to come across as confused and devious at the same time. “Aren’t you sober?”

Rosa freezes, like she’s been caught in something. She  _ is _ sober— she’d made the joke as a lighthearted sort of thing, just to move the  conversation along. It’s not like the whole town doesn’t already know she’s an addict, but Jenna’s not the whole town. She didn’t grow up in Roswell, and she barely knows anything about Rosa. “Ex-junkie mom” isn’t exactly the first impression Rosa wants to make. “Yeah, I don’t drink or anything. I was just saying…”

“I get it,”  Jenna says unconfidently. Of course, she doesn’t get it— it’s more of a way to diffuse the tension than anything. Rosa can at least be grateful for that.

-

_ “If Isobel and Liz hadn’t gotten involved, the whole thing probably would’ve blown over in a week. But once they were in the middle of it, that group of women— it was a powder keg.” _

-

Liz knocks on Maria’s doorframe, and Maria looks up from her lesson plans. “Hey, working Mama! What are you doing here?” Maria wraps Liz in a hug.

“I took a late lunch so I could pick up the boys. How are they? How was the first day?”

“Oh, it was great, the boys are little angels. The class is outside right now with Ms. Harding.”

“Angels?” Liz laughs. “My boys? I’m impressed.”

More parents start to filter in as Liz and Maria talk, loitering around the doorway. When Jenna, Isobel, and Rosa arrive, they arrive as a group.

“Liz!” Rosa exclaims when she walks in. She hugs her tight, despite the fact that she’s seen her as recently as last night. “I am so glad you’re here,” Rosa whispers in her ear. “I just escaped the most awkward brunch from hell.”

“You went to brunch with Blonde and Blonder?” Liz asks, eyebrows quirking upward in amusement. “I wanna hear all the details after this.”

“Mommy!” The twins come bursting through the door as Miss Harding, the teacher’s aide, leads the rest of the class inside.

“Hey babies!” She catches the boys in her arms as they come charging at her, squeezing them tight. “How was it?”

“We read a book about sea creatures and I drew an octopus!” Miguel exclaims, bouncing up and down. “It’s in my backpack, wanna see?”

“Of course I do! Let’s wait until we get to the car, okay? We’ll hang it on the fridge at home.”

There’s a little girl at the end of the line with soft curly hair who’s crying, her shoulders hunched and her arms wrapped protectively around herself. Miss Harding hovers around her, one hand on one of the girl’s scrunched up shoulders,  whispering words of comfort.

Maria gives Rosa a quick side hug, and then goes over to inspect the situation with the crying kid. As she gets closer, she can see blooming bruises around the girl’s neck.

Elena’s babbling excitedly to her mother about Leo the lion, the stuffed animal each one of them gets to take home every weekend, when Isobel comes up to them, her son, Laeken, fidgeting impatiently at her side. “Liz! I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Giving Max a break from pick-up-drop-off duty?” Liz reiterates her explanation about taking a late lunch to see the boys, at least at the end of their first day. Isobel rattles off about the day she's had with Jenna and Rosa. Every time Liz tries to have a conversation with Isobel, it seems less like she’s actually listening and more like she’s simply waiting for her turn to talk.

Maria and Miss Harding are whispering heatedly. Liz hears Maria ask, “What do you  _ mean _ you didn’t see what happened?” Maria motions Cameron over, and there’s more heated whispering. Cameron’s voice raises to a pitch Liz has never heard it at before.

“What’s going on?” Isobel finally asks, and the attention of most of the parents in the room shifts.

Miss Harding gives a forced, uncomfortable smile. “There was just a small incident on the playground that we’re trying to figure out, if you’d just give us—”

“Someone tried to strangle my daughter,” Jenna says loudly, and the ambient chatter in the room suddenly quiets.

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” Isobel demands, in a trademarked tone of Isobel Evans outrage. It’s that “I’d like to speak to the manager” kind of tone, and it makes Maria’s hackles rise.

“Mrs. Bracken,” Maria says in a strained voice. “This isn’t really any of your business, so if you’d just let us handle this—”

“If someone in this classroom poses a threat to our children, I think it’s all of our business!” There are murmurs of agreement from the other moms.

“Who was it, honey?” Isobel asks, leaning down to speak to the obviously distressed little girl. “Who hurt you?”

“Well, the problem is, the children don’t know each other’s names yet, so—”

“Can you point to who it was?” Jenna asks Camila. “Can we get the kids to line up so she can point out who hurt her?”

“ _ Me estás tomando el pelo! _ A police lineup for kindergarteners? This is ridiculous!” Liz mutters.

Camila shakes her head, and Jenna whispers something to her. Eventually, she raises a shaky hand and points. At Elena.

Maria looks shocked, but says, “Elena, sweetie, will you apologize to Camila?”

“It wasn’t me!” she cries out, looking up at her mom for support.

“You’re not in trouble, hon, we just need you to say you’re sorry.”

“Of course she’s in trouble!” Jenna exclaims. “She choked my kid!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Elena says pleadingly, close to tears.

“Elena would never hurt anyone!” Liz says defiantly.

Maria looks between the two little girls helplessly. “If she says she didn’t do it, then I can’t—”

“Are you saying my daughter’s lying?” Jenna asks. “Look at her neck!”

Maria gets down on Camila’s level, and says, very gently, “Sweetheart, are you sure that’s the kid who hurt you?”

Camila doesn’t answer, just clings to Jenna’s leg. “I wanna go home!” she whines.

Jenna looks to Rosa. “Look, can’t you just make your daughter apologize?”

“Mama, I didn’t  _ do _ it!” Elena sobs out, and Rosa pull her closer for support.

“I believe my daughter,” Rosa says firmly, both hands planted on Elena’s shoulders.

“And I believe mine.” Jenna crosses her arms. They’re at a standstill.

“Mommy, I wanna go  _ home _ ,” Camila sobs into Jenna’s side.

“Ms. Cameron, maybe we should settle this privately, at a later date?” Maria suggests.

“Elena,” Jenna says, crouching down to the little girl’s level. “If you ever touch my daughter like that again, you’re going to be in big trouble, understand?”

Rosa steps defensively in front of Elena, and Liz demands, “Are you  _ threatening _ a five year old?” If there were any parents who weren’t paying attention before, they all are now.

“I am not  _ threatening _ anyone, I’m just trying to  protect my daughter—”

“I think you should back off,” Rosa finally says.

Cameron shoots Rosa a pleading look. “Surely you can understand—”

“I think what  _ you _ should understand—”

“Liz!” Maria interjects, and it startles Liz out of her rage enough to really _  look _ at Maria, then at the rest of the room. Parents are glaring, some at Cameron and Isobel, some at Rosa and Liz, but mostly at Maria. It strikes Liz what a horrible first impression she’s putting forth, not just for herself, but for the whole class. The situation doesn’t look good from any angle, and Maria is the easy target at the center of it all. Dramatizing the situation is the last thing any of them should be doing.

Rosa tightens her grip on Liz’s wrist, and Liz takes a cleansing breath in through her nose. “Ms. DeLuca is right. We should settle this privately.”  She directs her gaze toward the crowd of parents. “Nothing to see here,” she says curtly. “Take your kids and go.”

-

_ “Of course  _ everyone _ wants to blame the moms. ‘Oh, women are so catty, they never let things go,’ all that sexist crap. But the dads were just as involved, just as much at fault. Write this down, detective: the men weren’t innocent.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaand we will be getting more on the men in chapter 3, which I'm very excited about! I changed my tumblr url recently, so you can now find me at @robinlastname. Feel free to jump in my askbox for just about anything, I'm always eager to talk about my fics and my fandoms in general. Don't be a stranger!

**Author's Note:**

> show me some love on [tumblr](http://kaymccalls.tumblr.com/)


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